The Phandalin Chronicles

Ungrim barely flinches as one of the arrows pierces his shoulder.
As the dragonborn unleashes her acid breath, the dwarf clasps his axe with both hands and barrels toward the goblin. Shouting a dwarven battle cry, he hacks at its torso with a wide swing of his weapon. Without stopping, Ungrim then attempts to cleave through the other goblin as well.

Movement: 15ft to reach melee range with the goblins
Action: 
Greataxe attack on Goblin A - Attack: 23 Damage: 12
If the attack connects I'll use the Greataxe Weapon Mastery (Cleave) on Goblin B - Cleave attack: Attack: 11 Damage: 2

Dex saves - 15, 5, 6

Int save 18

Akra spews acid over the three goblins and one falls dead.  The furthest away goblin that you now see looks healthier and stronger than the other two hears the whisper in his voice but ignores it.  Thalas's bolt flys wide but Bozzlewick has better aim and gets a solid it. Ungrim steps forward and strikes down the closer goblin but isn't close enough to cleave the last goblin that still stood.

The last goblin looks haggard and near death as it tries to get a shot off with its bow at Ungrim but misses (to hit 11)

Ungrim grins as his axe blow fells the goblin. He kicks the creature out of the way and stomps toward the last goblin still standing.
"Pitiful gobbos, not even worthy of a footnote in my saga." As the goblin's arrow whistles a few inches past his crimson crest, the dwarf growls and closes the distance. He swings his greataxe in a downward arc, attempting to finish the creature off.

Movement: 15ft towards the goblin (South square below the goblin so that the others can still target him)
Action: Greataxe attack on the last goblin - Attack: 16 Damage: 5

Thalas fires another bolt towards the last goblin Attack: 19 Damage: 5

The goblin ducks out of the way of the dwarfs axe and a moment later is pierced by a bolt from Thalas's crossbow felling him.

The goblin is dead. Combat over.

While he hadn't been hiding per se, neither was Bozzlewick eager to come out of the underbrush until the sound of fighting had died down. Afterwards, the gnome rather comically pokes his head out first, glances about to just make sure no other hidden threat made it self known, and then ducked back inside the brush; only to come out fully grumbling and having to fight to get his weapon free of the tangle!

"Well, that was a slightly unexpected turn of events, but seems we've all acquitted ourselves well enough! Good job, everyone. It may be prudent going forward to err more on the side of caution, as this goblins have clearly shown at least a modicum of caution. Like, oh, I don't know, one of you more sneaky maybe scout ahead? 'specially seeing as biggie-smalls-" He thumbs Thalas' general direction. "-over here is gonna need to go in either holding someone's hand or bearing a torch I'd imagine." 

"Worthless foes," Ungrim says, shaking his head as Thalas's bolt finishes off the last goblin. The dwarf cleans his blade on the goblin's body and examines it for any signs of corruption. "The last one was a bit sturdier than the others."

As Bozzlewick suggests a stealthier approach, Ungrim grunts in agreement. "Those gobbos barely put up a fight, so I would say caution is unnecessary, but you make a good point, as we may be facing other creatures soon. Who wishes to be the sneaky scout, then?" he asks.
The dwarf walks towards the goliath, plucking the goblin's arrow from his shoulder. "You can use my hooded lantern when we are inside," he says, handing the item over. "You can return it later."

OOC: I uses 1 charge of Second wind to heal 11 hp.

Nyxaris freezes, eyes lingering on the spot where the goblin resisted him. A quiet breath. “Curious,” he murmurs. “Such a small mind… yet it held.” He steps forward, falling in with the others without comment. “I am ready,” he says simply.

Thalas recovers - if possible - the bolt from the goblin’s body wiping it clean on the creatures jerkin. The other that missed he doesn’t even bother looking for!

Ungrim searches the goblins and finds a few copper on the smaller two.  The other, the last to fall, was a bit bigger and had better gear, for a goblin.  While the smaller two had short bows and rusty daggers the larger one had a chain shirt, in poor shape, as well as a short bow and scimitar.  It has 6 silver and 4 copper in a purse on its belt.  Thalas retrieves his bolt, Bozzlewick can do the same.

None of the goblins showed any of the mutations of the one goblin from the ambush site.

Just inside the cave mouth, a few uneven stone steps ascend to a small, dank chamber on the east side of the passage. The cave narrows to a steep fissure at the far end and is filled with the stench of animals. Three chained wolves snarl and rattle their chains as you approach the cave mouth. Each wolf’s chain leads to an iron rod driven into the base of a stalagmite.

Further up ahead daylight no longer reaches but most can see that there is another passage to the left and the path along the stream curves out of sight to the right.

I need a standard marching order

Akra smiles at her new associates as the last goblin falls. "Nice," she comments.

She looks sideways at the toucan on her shoulder. "You can help too, you know" she says, stomping back into the running water.

Tutu continues to stare straight ahead, unmoving.

OOC: Akra has dark vision, but her stealth is only +1, so she shouldn't be a scout. But I feel like she'd want to be second in line if she can be.

Despite making the suggestion Bozzlewick had absolutely NO intention of volunteering to play scout. He'd played the part enough times back during his ruin exploration days as to know that -- while absolutely thrilling -- it was a good way to get killed in some ancient booby trap if one wasn't careful! All that said, he certainly wouldn't envy whoever volunteered (if anyone); especially after the 'Ms. Leadfoot-pseudodragon' began stomping through the river, making the gnome flinch with almost every foot step.

(OOC: Unless the party is being actively hunting at any given point, Bozzlewick will always angle towards being at the back of the bus!)

Nyxaris will quietly stay in the middle.

"I'll take point then," Ungrim says after a moment as the others start taking position behind him. "I warn you, I'm not known for being a light-footed dwarf."
And with that said, the dwarf, gripping the haft of his greataxe firmly, proceeds steadily down the path, as quietly as he can.
As he walks, the dwarf recalls the ancestral gift of his race and listens to the rock and terrain for any anomalies or signs of other living creatures within range.

OOC: It looks like the marching order is - (Front) Ungrim - (Middle) Akra - Nyxaris - (Rear) Thalas - Bozzlewick

@DM I'm using 1 charge of Tremorsense (Tremorsense range 60ft for 10 minutes)

(OOC. I just remembered that Nyxaris is "allegedly" good at scouting. If it is not too late, he will take point.)

Ungrim closes his eyes and lets his awareness sink into the stone beneath his boots. Years—perhaps decades—spent deep within dwarven mines have honed his tremorsense, allowing him to feel the faint vibrations of creatures in contact with the cavern floor.

The cold rock speaks to him in subtle pulses. To the west, he senses eight distinct bodies standing upon the stone. Directly north 1. To the northeast, another five. Directly east, beyond the chamber holding the three wolves that are chained to the wall, he detects four more.

Though walls and darkness conceal them from sight, the mountain cannot hide their presence from a dwarf who has spent a lifetime listening to the earth.

Meanwhile Nyxaris steps forward and he can see a bit futher up the passage and can now see a bridge over the stream that continues deeper into the cave.

After lighting his torch, Thalas takes another swig from the bottle he keeps at his waist shaking his head and grimacing at its taste before muttering to himself “that stuff really is horrible but needs must!” He does however seem to have revived a bit as a result of the substance.

What really happened!

Nyxaris steps forward into the cool breath of the cave, the stream whispering at his boots, the wolves’ chains rattling faintly in the dark. He lifts one hand, and he speaks an incantation. The air ripples, and shadows bend. And from the darkness before him, a goblin steps into being.

It is shaped from silence and suggestion — a perfect mimicry of the larger goblin they just fought outside. The same hunched posture, the same uneven gait, the same crude armor hanging from its frame. It moves with uncanny realism, head twitching, shoulders rolling, as though listening for orders. But it makes no sound. Not a breath. Not a footfall. A hollow echo of life. Nyxaris lowers his hand, watching the illusion with the stillness of carved stone. “It will walk where we need not.” He murmurs. “A shadow to draw their eyes… or their blades.”

He turns to Ungrim, pale eyes reflecting the faint trickle of light from the cave mouth. “There is a bridge ahead.”  He says quietly. The illusion stands ready, waiting for direction like a puppet suspended on invisible strings. Nyxaris inclines his head, the gesture slow and deliberate. “Tell me, Ungrim… which path shall the shadow walk first?”

Keeping his deep voice down to a whisper, Ungrim says, "There are many creatures in this cave complex. Eight are gathered beyond the passage to the left, five more are straight ahead, and another five are to the northeast. There is a chamber beyond the one holding the wolves; four other creatures are there."
The dwarf shifts his stance. "I cannot say whether they are gobbos or some other kind of creature. The stone does not make such distinctions."
Ungrim gestures toward the northeastern passage. "I say we start there. At least we won't be outnumbered if things go south."

"Are those what were rattling chains? The wolves, I mean. Hmm... Might be in our best interest to do something about them'fore we proceed, least one of them gets anxious enough to start howling an alarm." The gnome whispered back. "Not with necessarily with violence, I might add. But, uhm... with food? At least to keep'em distracted long enough to pass unbothered. A-and I'd volunteer my rations, but I-I didn't pack much in the way of jerky to be honest." Bozzlewick went on to confess with cheeks darkening a tad from embarrassment.